


Forgive My Thoughts When I'm Asleep (Forgive These Words I've Yet To Speak)

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Bottom Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e01 Arthur's Bane, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Huddling For Warmth, Infidelity, M/M, POV Merlin, Pining Merlin, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Sharing Body Heat, Spit As Lube, Top Arthur, no prep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On an already cold and bitter night, Arthur finds a way to breathe some warmth back into Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive My Thoughts When I'm Asleep (Forgive These Words I've Yet To Speak)

**Author's Note:**

> For Nick, who wanted a rehash of the sex scene in Brokeback Mountain - sorry there is no tent and sorry if I said I'd do it as top!Merlin, I completely forgot but I hope it serves its purpose <3
> 
> Also, inadvertently filled another of the November prompts at [Merlin Writers](http://merlin-writers.livejournal.com) which was "the deleted scene from 5x01". The overall theme was snuggling for warmth.
> 
> Title lyrics taken from [Devotion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmK7QMj_tNg) by Hurts

Merlin had his arms wrapped tight about his body, unable to stop himself shaking and his breath from coming in great warm huffs that clouded around him the cold air.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, his annoyance clear through clenched teeth.

“Yes?” Merlin asked, wondering what else Arthur would have him do now. He’d already been yelled at, pulled at and been told where he was allowed to sleep. He wasn’t sure there was anything else Arthur could ask of him.

“You’re breathing,” Arthur told him, like he wasn’t already aware of the fact.

“Sorry.” Merlin tried to slow his breaths, tried to make them more natural but it only made him shiver more, his teeth chattering unbearably. It was worse than his breathing had been.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, as if he was doing it on purpose.

“I can’t help it. It’s cold,” Merlin replied, taking on Arthur’s love of pointing out the obvious.

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin. It’s not _that_ cold.” Arthur heaved himself up before throwing himself back down, unable to get comfortable in his mail. “You’ve just still got your breeches in a twist about going home. You’ve been in a right mood for days.”

“I’m just cold,” Merlin bit out, clenching his own teeth in an effort to get them to still. “Will you drop it?”

“I’ve tried dropping it, why don’t you try telling me what the hell is wrong?” Arthur tried but the only answer he got was the clacking of Merlin’s teeth. “Fine, you’re cold?”

“Yes, I’m cold. It’s cold. Go to sleep.” Merlin forced his eyes shut. He wasn’t going over it again. 

For a second, he thought that would be the end of it but Arthur shifted again, this time pressing into Merlin’s back. Merlin didn’t say anything. It wasn’t worth the argument. But then Arthur’s arm was flung about his chest and he was being pulled flush to Arthur’s body and he _had_ to say something about that. “Arthur... what are you doing?”

“Trying to get some sleep,” Arthur said by way of explanation but explaining nothing as far as Merlin could gather.

“I don’t follow.”

“I can’t very well sleep with you making that racket, can I?” Arthur tightened his grip as if to demonstrate.

“I still don’t follow.” Merlin took a deep breath, not to battle the cold but in an attempt to seem normal, like his heart hadn’t doubled speed at Arthur’s touch.

“It’s simple, you say you’re cold? I’ll share my body heat with you, you won’t be so cold then we can _both_ sleep.” Arthur let his grip slacken a bit until it was almost casual but Merlin couldn’t stop his heart from racing.

“I’m not actually that cold anymore,” Merlin said desperately. 

“Good, that means it’s working.” Arthur’s voice was lost in the panic Merlin felt, turned to nothing but hot breath on the back of his neck because he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about this a hundred times and what he’d do should it ever happen, no, he thought about that all the time. But now it was happening, it was completely different. It was too fucking real, for one thing. In any idle fantasy he had, Arthur wasn’t actually Arthur. He was just some notion of Arthur that he’d been perfecting over the years. Less arrogant, less of a prat and less married to Gwen. This Arthur was not the one that should be holding him tight and warming his bones.

He considered moving, shifting away perhaps or returning Arthur’s arm to his own person but that would just draw attention to him. That was the last thing he wanted so he stayed where he was, trying to breathe evenly while listening to Arthur’s breathing, trying to work out if he was asleep or not.

Merlin knew he wouldn’t get any sleep himself, not like this. His palms were sweating, his heart was pounding and his head was spinning. He was more likely to spontaneously die than sleep. But the one thing he couldn’t contest was that he was warmer. His teeth had stopped chattering and his body had stopped shivering. With the constant blush on his cheeks and the heat coming from Arthur, he was becoming unbearably warm.

Arthur shifted beside him again, a sleepy groan coming from him that sounded way too obscene to Merlin’s ears. He shifted at the same time, trying to move out of the way of Arthur’s elbows and knees, and more importantly, the sword he still had grasped in his other hand. Somehow he still ended up with it pressed into his back. Perhaps his death wouldn’t be spontaneous after all; it would be idiotic because the blasted fool had run him through in his sleep.

Merlin gave a weary sigh, certain Arthur was asleep now. His annoyed fidgeting had become the natural movements of sleep and Merlin was sure he could keep time by his breathing. On the upside, he could relax about his own jumpiness for a moment but on the downside, he was trapped until Arthur woke. Perhaps, he thought, if he moved _really_ slowly...

He got about three finger lengths before he was pulled sharply backwards again, Arthur’s grip like steel and possessive, despite its owners apparently lack of consciousness. Merlin sucked in a breath, his last one had been near enough knocked out of him with the force of Arthur’s reclamation of him and then halted by the press of Arthur’s sword hard against the base of his spine. That would be it. That would be how he died. He needn’t have worried about Arthur finding out about his magic and having him executed. He was going to execute him in his sleep.

Considering his lesson learned, Merlin settled down against Arthur and his armour and his weaponry. In resignation there was a certain peace and between the soothing sound of Arthur’s even breaths and the pleasant heat they shared, he found his mind wandering. 

He idly thought about Arthur, as he always did, it was a bad habit he couldn’t seem to break. They weren’t even forbidden thoughts, he was just thinking fondly about Arthur’s concern the last few days but the warm feeling it gave him didn’t discriminate. Thoughts of Arthur’s loyalty and bravery, his nobility seemed to have the same stirring effect on him that thoughts of him stripping, him dripping water from his recent bath or the image of how his tight trousers clung to his arse, had on him. Before long they became one and the same. Loyal Arthur stripping. Brave Arthur bathing. Arthur’s noble arse.

There was a faint sleepy moan and for a moment, Merlin thought it was his own. It was only when the hand on his chest slipped down a good few inches did he realise it was, in fact, Arthur. Merlin froze, certain that either Arthur had lost his mind or in some dream addled state, he thought he was Gwen. Should it be the latter, he was just about ready to throw himself to the Saxons. Hell, he’d even take Morgana’s torture over the humiliation of Arthur waking up and realising he wasn’t Gwen.

Merlin held his breath, even though his breathing was the last thing he should be worried about as Arthur’s hand crept slowly lower. Perhaps if he pretended to be asleep, there would be nothing said about it. But Arthur, awake or asleep or anywhere in between, didn’t seem to have the same idea. Instead, he pushed his hips into Merlin’s arse, rolling them and making it clear that Merlin’s life had never been in danger because that was _not_ his sword.

Merlin let go of the breath. He’d have to wake him. He’d have to say something. This was nigh on taking advantage of his king. He couldn’t just let it happen. He reached down to Arthur’s hand, to pull it away and... he didn’t. As if of their own accord, his fingers laced with Arthur’s and he followed Arthur’s hand, pushing it down on his unmistakably hard cock. He held his breath again, blood pounding in his ears, mentally screaming, _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ at himself, _what the fuck are you doing, idiot!_

He wasn’t sure who ripped themselves away first, him or Arthur but they parted like they’d been thrown from each other using magic. Maybe they had. Maybe his magic had kicked in when his good sense had fled for the hills. They both clambered into sitting positions, a good foot away from each other, both breathing heavily.

“Sorry.” Merlin averted his gaze, unable to look at Arthur as he mumbled his apology.

“Sorry” Arthur said over him, his voice rough and wrecked like he’d been fighting some great battle, shouting commands. “My fault.”

Merlin’s eyes darted up and caught Arthur’s gaze. His eyes shone darkly and there was no mistaking what he found in them. Desire. But it was leftover lust, from whatever dream he’d been having, Merlin was sure of it. Still, its presence there, between them, was enough to drive him crazy.

Arthur reached out an arm, to give him a friendly punch on the arm or something, but Merlin caught it before it connected. He clung onto the fistful of metal rings, pulling Arthur closer before he realised what he was doing. Arthur’s hand came up to his other arm, to push him away perhaps but Merlin didn’t let him get that far. He let go of the chain mail and got up on his knees, making to stand.

“Merlin,” Arthur said as he made the same move. It put them closer together and of a height. It left him eye to eye with Arthur.

He leaned forward, certain for a moment he would kiss him before he pulled back again. He couldn’t fucking do it. This was Arthur. The real Arthur. Not some dream of his that left his sheets shamefully stained with seed. This was fucking it.

Using all his willpower, he turned away but Arthur grabbed the back of his neck, righting him again until they were almost glaring into each other’s eyes, trying to battle against whatever was driving them. In Merlin’s case, years of pent up want, in Arthur’s case – who the fuck knew? Insanity perhaps. All Merlin knew is he didn’t seem to be letting go.

Merlin brought his hands up to remove Arthur’s arms from around his neck but he was stopped short by the tiniest flicker in his eyes. Merlin couldn’t quite place it as a single emotion; it seemed to fly through uncertainty, hurt and renewed determination in rather quick succession. The determination showed itself when he pulled Merlin closer by the neck and their mouths clashed together for the shortest second imaginable. Then he pulled back, breathing heavier than ever.

Merlin swallowed, not quite caught up with what the fuck was going on. He was fairly sure Arthur had kissed him but it was a strange, dark blur. His own hand, somewhere along the way, had ended up on Arthur’s neck, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in this mess. What did he do now? Did he kiss him? Did he wait to be kissed again? Did he pretend nothing had happened? Was he even allowed to ask what Arthur was thinking and doing and what it all bloody meant? Should he remind them both of Gwen sat at home, ruling the kingdom in Arthur’s absence?

Merlin pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, completely and utterly lost. There was no right thing to do. He couldn’t turn Arthur away, not the way he’d quietly loved him for years but he didn’t want to risk making a move and it all being a mistake. So he stared into Arthur’s eyes and willed him to do something, anything, because he couldn’t. He felt Arthur pull at the neck of his jacket and Merlin reached for the sides of it, pulling it off before he’d thought it through. There was a flicker of acknowledgement in Arthur’s eyes. He understood what was happening. What they were heading towards if he didn’t stop it. There was no getting away from it now. And he wasn’t stopping it.

The uncertainty was still there in his eyes but because in every other way he refused to let go, it swayed Merlin into action. The thought suddenly came to him that perhaps Arthur was waiting for him to come to his senses and reject him. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter how terrifying the alternative. He collected all of his nerves and pushed them down, battling against Arthur’s tight grip to kiss him gently. Trying to convey that whatever it was that Arthur wanted, he wouldn’t refuse him.

The kiss lasted longer than the first, Merlin’s fingers unbuckling the metal plates out of habit. It was long enough that they were both sure they were kissing each other. There was no questioning it was happening. There was no denying they were both participating. But again, Merlin found himself shoved away as Arthur recovered himself.

“Merlin,” Arthur said and it was the same warning tone used a hundred other times for a hundred other reasons. Never like it was being used in this instance. It had never sounded so hot before. It had never sounded like Arthur was hot for him before.

“Arthur,” Merlin said back, softly, pleadingly. He didn’t have anything else he could say. He couldn’t incite Arthur to be unfaithful. He couldn’t tell him no. He reached for the belt around his waist and pulled it free, then the fastenings on his trousers, pulling them open. He couldn’t incite Arthur to be unfaithful but he would offer himself up however Arthur needed him to in order to reassure Arthur that it was alright. It was all alright. Whatever happened.

Arthur glanced down, taking in Merlin’s cock. It was obvious it was hard for him, desperately needing attention from him. Merlin couldn’t pretend it wasn’t and he knew Arthur wouldn’t be able to either.

Indecision clouded Arthur’s eye for a spilt second and then he was moving, suddenly too fast in a world that had seemed to slow down around them while they figured it out. Merlin held out his hands to brace himself on the ground and to stop himself from landing face first onto it. Arthur still had hold of his neck with one hand, his fingers stroking gently, almost absently, as he fumbled at his own trousers.

“Arthur,” Merlin said again, not to follow it up with anything, just to say it.

“I know, I know,” Arthur said, words tumbling out into the silence now they’d finally broken whatever unspoken rule had existed between them. “But I can’t. I can’t keep on seeing you like this and not knowing what’s wrong. It’s making me miserable and I need...I just need you to be alright again, alright? I need you to be you. I _need_ it.”

“Arthur...” Merlin turned his head, craning to see him, to reach up and kiss him.

“And gods curse us, I need you too. I can’t do this without you. Any of it.” Arthur pulled him up the last few inches and kissed him messily, teeth clashing at the awkward angle and hands scrambling trying to get at every bit of each other they could reach. When Arthur broke away from him, Merlin could swear he blinked back unshed tears. “So this is it. I’m laying everything I have on the table. Say something other than my name or by the gods, I’ll...” Arthur fell silent, at a loss for a suitable threat to make.

“You’re such a prat, you know that right?” Merlin asked.

“Merlin!” Arthur growled but it was fear in his eyes, not anger.

“I can’t bear to lose you either,” Merlin admitted even though Arthur hadn’t said it outright. Arthur didn’t correct him though. He accepted it. “That’s what has my breeches in a twist, as you so eloquently put it. I can’t bear the thought that you’re going to do something stupid, _like this_ and get yourself killed and I-” Merlin cut himself off before he said, _I won’t be able to save you_ out loud.

Arthur’s face softened and for a moment Merlin thought that would be it. No need to prove anything further. But Arthur had apparently committed to showing Merlin exactly how he felt and Merlin sure as all hell wasn’t going to talk him out of it. He gave Arthur an almost imperceptible nod and reached out to him, his hand sliding off of metal. Arthur made a frustrated sound in his throat and pulled at the metal plate Merlin had loosened. It fell away easily and Arthur heaved off his mail with it, peeling off the gambeson in his next breath.

Merlin felt his cock twitch at the sight of Arthur stripping. He wasn’t sure if it was the connotation of it or the fact that despite his protests to the contrary, Arthur could actually undress himself which suggested that he _wanted_ Merlin to do it when he asked him to. He couldn’t help but touch himself; a few delicate strokes while Arthur spat into the palm of his hand. He watched as Arthur ran his hand over his cock, mirroring Merlin’s movements. Then Arthur’s hands were on him again. One on his back and one on his hip, steering him back onto the ground, making him brace himself with spread knees and splayed hands. Arthur’s hands were followed by his body, pressing flush to Merlin’s back again like he’d done while they were sleeping, or not quite sleeping, as the case may have been.

The directional hand on his hip left him, leaving only a faint handprint in its wake. He nearly reached out for it, to retake it but then he felt Arthur’s cock pushing into him, breaching him with a burn that was only rivalled by the fire of his magic when it burned though him.

“Ah, fuck, Arthur...” Merlin managed to get out, his voice sounding to him like he was trying to yield a fight but he didn’t want Arthur to stop, so he didn’t ask him to. Rather, he balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms, knees digging into the ground and he pushed back, taking more of Arthur’s cock until his body screamed in protest.

When Merlin reached the hilt of Arthur's cock, he stopped, legs shaking and eyes stinging. Through concentrated breaths and Arthur's stillness, he realised in their haste, they'd skipped a few vital steps to ease the way.

"Fuck, Merlin, sorry," Arthur said, coming to the same conclusion. "I've never-"

"I know," Merlin said, cutting him off.

"I just had to have you, I didn't-"

"It's fine," Merlin cut him off again.

"I'm used to G-"

"Arthur, shut up," Merlin said through gritted teeth. "And fuck me. Please."

Arthur gave a swift nod, trusting Merlin's judgement. He pulled back slowly, dragging out another sweet burn until it seemed it would go on forever. Another stilted breath as they stilled again, Arthur’s hand returning to Merlin’s hip, the other slipping under the back of Merlin’s shirt, pushing it up and pushing Merlin down in the process until his back curved up beautifully.

As Arthur clung to him, easing back in, the pain reached a pinnacle and burst over him in a rolling wave, flowing out of his mouth in curses, ending with a desperate plea for Arthur to touch him. Arthur grunted something Merlin couldn't make out but he tightened the grip on Merlin's neck, to balance himself better, so that he could let go of Merlin's hip and wrap his hand around Merlin's cock. The sparks of pleasure battled the burn of pain and Merlin feared he would come apart, not as he was meant to but really, seams pulled apart so pleasure and pain and power could spill out. It was too much to hold inside one body. But he wasn't letting go of Arthur, he refused to.

Arthur fucked like Merlin knew he would, like he did everything else. Slowly, measured but with such strength that it jarred Merlin from the inside out. And Merlin fucked him like he did everything else when it came to Arthur, giving everything, shutting out anything that wasn't him and silently trying to convey to him just how much it meant. And together they made love like everything else that passed between them, unspoken but with such feeling that neither of them could explain it. And when Arthur hit something deep inside him, that sent something through him that was hotter than the burn and headier than pleasure and more powerful than magic, he used the only word he had. The only one that mattered. "Arthur!"

The sound of his name, screamed so and dripping with everything else that couldn't be said, broke something in Arthur. Some caution or fear or disbelief. Whatever it was that had apparently held his tongue for so long.

"Fuck, Merlin I- fuck, it's you."Arthur's words were spoken with the weight of his body slamming into Merlin, the timing of his thrusts, the feel of him deep inside. Merlin couldn't hear them as words, only sounds and tone and undeniable love, getting stronger, more sure of itself as Arthur held him tighter, fucked him harder. "Always been. Something about you. This."

The hand on his back stroked up and down again in soothing circles, as though touch would convey what words couldn't. Merlin knew he should say something. Something real. Not just how good it felt or the almost religious exclamation of Arthur's name. "Arthur, I-"

Merlin's thought was interrupted by Arthur's hand moving up to his shoulder and dragging him backwards, upwards, until he was standing on his knees again, his back pressed into Arthur's chest. The change pushed Arthur deeper; until Merlin was sure he had to end somewhere. The drive of Arthur's hips was shallower; brushing against the sweet spot inside him over and over until Merlin was sure he was seeing more stars than were in the night sky.

He was wrapped up in Arthur, his arm around him to reach his cock, his chest at his back and his cock buried deep inside. It was like he was being pulled into him whole, the supposed two sides of their coin melted in a crucible leaving them one molten being, purified and refined back into people against all nature. He could feel the warmth of it now, building inside him, heating him from the inside until he boiled over, spilling into Arthur’s hand until he had no more to give and he could only take. He took Arthur’s cock still, clenching around him as echoes of his undoing spread through him.

It was only a few more breaths before he felt Arthur still behind him, pulling up short almost like he’d forgotten what he was doing. Arthur’s grip on him tightened then slackened as Merlin felt Arthur’s seed empty inside him, seeping out when Arthur freed himself from Merlin’s body and Merlin could finally collapse against the ground with him.

It wasn’t cold at all anymore. The ground wasn’t as hard as it had been. Something had thawed the world, or so it seemed. There was a rustle in the breeze among their panted breaths and the very real threat of Morgana and her men returned to Merlin’s mind. Arthur’s too as he sat up and looked about them, his hands reaching for his mail again.

“Just in case,” he muttered as he shrugged it back on. 

The moment, whatever it had been, passed back into reality and Merlin found himself remembering what Arthur had helped him forget. But what could he say; he’d tried saying everything but the outright truth. Not that he would have listened to the outright truth either but now, perhaps. Cold again, he decided to pull his own clothes back on, tying the belt again so he could claw back some semblance of decorum in all this. He needed Arthur to listen to him for once, not laugh at him.

He waited until Arthur had returned to his place beside him. He needed to feel him there, even as he turned away from him, unable to look at him. If he didn’t take him seriously now, he probably never would. It wasn’t his fault if he laugh, he would never know what he was really dismissing.

“Arthur?”

“Mmm?” Arthur asked, sleepily. It wasn’t a threat of danger or a proclamation of love so it wasn’t enough to rouse him from sleep for the second time that night.

Merlin pressed on anyway. He had to tell him about what he’d seen. He couldn’t keep it from him now, not after everything. “I need to tell you something...”

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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